


Baby Think It Over

by orphan_account



Series: We Can Work It Out [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Gen, High School, Kidfic, M/M, kind of?, pure fluff as usual, so much for theme series naming oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosette has to take care of a fake, though realistic, baby for a weekend for a parenting project, and finds it more difficult than she anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Think It Over

Cosette rested the baby carrier on her arm as she left the classroom; she felt confident and grown up with the simulation infant in the carrier and the chip bracelet around her wrist. She had been looking forward to the project for weeks, a maternal instinct she did not think she possessed rising within her.

She had nearly left the school when she heard a frantic voice chasing after her, and jumped as she felt another carrier bump into her back. She turned around to see Marius Pontmercy staring at her, slightly out of breath, with a carrier very similar to Cosette’s own.

“I thought maybe we could have a play-date,” Marius tried.

Cosette raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t think so, Marius,” she said, “I think I’ll be fine on my own. It’s just a baby, and it’s just until Monday.” She turned to the fake baby nestled gently in the carrier, barely visible beneath the blankets. “We’ll be okay, won’t we, Catherine?” she cooed. “We don’t need any silly boys to help us out, do we?”

She could tell Marius was still standing there, but refused to glance back up at him; instead, she rested her hand gently behind “Catherine’s” head, supporting it gently as she moved it back and forth, and in a mock-baby voice, replied, “oh no mamma, boys are dummies and we’re gonna get an A on this project!”

“Very nice,” Marius said sarcastically as he turned away from Cosette. She intended to yell after him and remind him that she was only kidding -- though they had dated for a short time, Cosette truly harboured no ill-will toward him -- but was feeling too elated with her new baby to truly care about the feelings of Marius Pontmercy.

She left the school, the weight of the carrier almost negligible thanks to her good mood, and carried on home.

***

“I’m home, Papa!” Cosette called as she usually did when getting home on Fridays; her father was always home by about midday on Friday, citing the importance of time with his daughter (as opposed to during the week, when he could occasionally be at the factory he owned until eight or even nine o’clock).

She kicked off her shoes and backpack, walking into the kitchen and setting the carrier down on a dining chair.

Her father peered over his laptop at the carrier and forced a smile. “Is this our new bundle of joy?”

Cosette beamed as she picked Catherine up, still bundled in blankets. Gently supporting her head, she walked over to her father to show off her new baby.

“This is grandpa, Catherine,” she said sweetly. She turned to him. “Do you want to hold her?”

He looked like he made to protest, to remind Cosette that the item in her hands was not really his granddaughter, not really a living and breathing thing at all, but instead forced another smile and went to gently take Catherine from Cosette.

As soon as he took her, Catherine let out a loud, shrieking cry. Cosette’s father, to his credit, did not drop her, but rather sat almost paralyzed with the infant still in his arms.

“Head support, head support!” Cosette cried. She gently took Catherine from his arms and cradled her in her arms, rocking her gently. A small chime went off, acknowledging that it was now Cosette comforting her.

“Shhh, Catherine,” she said softly, “it’s okay, it’s okay.”

She continued rocking her until the cries subsided before sitting down at the table where her father had been working with his laptop.

“You need to support her head,” Cosette admonished. She paused for a moment. “You’ve never taken care of a baby, have you?”

He shook his head slowly and looked at her pleadingly.

“It’s okay,” Cosette told him, “I mean, it will show on the report that gets generated at the end of the project, but if it’s just one time, I’m sure it’s fine.” She smiled at him. “Maybe you could benefit from this parenting class as much as me.”

***

Cosette spent the rest of the evening relaxing and tending to Catherine; she had grown used to the baby’s cries and was having a good amount of luck determining what she needed, be it a bottle, a diaper change, or just some affection from her “mother.” She was proud of how well she was doing and how natural it felt to her; she did not even regret the fact she had stayed in, alone, on a Friday night.

Just after nine, Cosette’s phone buzzed with a text from Éponine. She hurriedly grabbed her phone to read the text.

“hey hows the sim baby going? work sucked”

Cosette rolled back on her bed as she typed out a reply.

“good so far!!! Catherine has been sleeping for about 1h. precious angel.”

“is that sarcasm”

“LOL of course not!! let’s get froyo tomorrow and you can meet her?”

She let the fantasy engulf her, and thought about what it might be like to raise a child with Éponine -- going to get frozen yogurt together, feeding the baby just the tiniest spoonfuls, hoping she would stay quiet as long as they were in public...

Éponine and Cosette worked out a time to meet tomorrow, and Cosette figured she’d get to sleep fairly early. She changed into her pajamas and set Catherine delicately in her carrier, right next to her bed, so the cries would be sure to wake her.

They did, and more than once.

The first time they woke her, Cosette checked her phone to see it was barely one o’clock. She tiredly, but somewhat happily, picked up Catherine and pressed her wrist to her shoulder, waiting for the chime. She then went through the motions of seeing what Catherine needed -- bottle, diaper, rocking -- until Catherine fell back asleep.

It took Cosette a bit longer to find sleep, but she did eventually.

Catherine woke her again at about three-thirty; Cosette rolled over in her bed, pulling the covers over her head and hoping the sound would stop. Eventually she remembered Catherine and her project, tiredly picking her up from the carrier.

“It’s okay Catherine, Mamma’s here,” she found herself saying sleepily, almost instinctively; she fumbled for the bottle on her nightstand and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the sound of Catherine sucking at it. She was almost back asleep by the time Catherine was finished, and had barely set Catherine back down in her carrier before falling asleep again.

The third time Catherine’s cries went off was at about eight. It was much earlier than Cosette would have normally awoken on a Saturday morning, but, after unsuccessfully trying to return to sleep for about a half hour, Cosette figured she might as well begin the day.

“Mamma needs some breakfast too,” she told Catherine gently.

She walked downstairs with Catherine in the carrier and turned on the coffee maker before resting her elbows on the counter and holding her head in her hands.

She was still sitting at the table, sipping at her coffee and picking at a piece of toast with jam when her father traipsed into the kitchen, just before nine.

“Sleep well?” He asked her, nodding at Catherine.

“Woke me up a few times,” Cosette admitted. She took another sip of her coffee and smiled. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Don’t speak so soon,” he warned, “it’s still only been one day.”

He poured himself his own coffee before sitting down at the kitchen table across from Cosette.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” he said slowly, more to his coffee mug than to his daughter.

“Hm? Oh, if you think that after this I’m going to suddenly want a baby -- I want to go to school first, you know that--”

He shook his head before interrupting her. “No, that’s not -- I should hope so! Finish school before you even think about having children, an education is the most valuable thing you will ever have.”

“I know, I know.”

“Anyway, it wasn’t about that,” he said slowly, “but -- and I’m sorry, I know this isn’t -- that is to say,” he fumbled, and Cosette saw a flush rising in his cheeks.

Cosette gave him a weird look.

“Javert is having some trouble with money,” her father said, his blush only strengthening, “what with the rising cost of rent in the city. Officers really aren’t paid as much as they -- anyway. He suggested -- that is, if you -- I told him I would have to clear it with you, this is your home, Cosette, more than it is mine--”

Cosette cut him off, half out of pity. “You’re asking if he can move in?”

“Not right away,” he added.

Cosette smiled. “I don’t see why not. I like him, I mean, I can’t see any real issues coming out of it, at least not right now.”

Her father looked up at her for the first time since their conversation had begun. “Really? Cosette, I don’t want you to feel pressured, this is ultimately your decision.”

“Really!” Cosette exclaimed.

He shot her a bright smile before his flush appeared again. “There was one other thing.”

“Yes?”

“He thinks it would be premature to just move in without seeing what it’s like to live here with us. I thought maybe he could spend the night here tonight, just to see how it goes?”

Cosette raised her eyebrows at him and he went, if possible, even more red.

“That’s not what I -- Cosette! -- I mean, if you would feel more comfortable, he could sleep in the spare room -- he could stay in the basement, if that --”

She laughed a little seeing her father so embarrassed before shrugging. “Just keep it PG around me and the baby, okay?”

He winced, but then gave her a weak smile and a nod.

***

A few hours later, Cosette was boarding the bus she would take to meet Éponine for frozen yogurt, as they had planned. Getting ready was more stressful than she had thought -- her shower was cut painfully short by Catherine’s cries, and the time it took to care for her nearly made Cosette miss her bus.

She inserted some change into the ticket machine after stepping onto the bus, Catherine still balanced on her arm.

The driver shot her a look. “Are you going to pay the full fare?”

“I’m a highschool student,” Cosette replied. The cost for students was slightly less than for the general population.

He raised his eyes at the carrier, and then back to Cosette. “Yeah, right.”

“No, she’s -- that is,” Cosette stumbled.

“I don’t have all day,” he snapped, “either pay the rest of the fare or get off.”

Cosette made a pained face and deposited a few more coins into the machine before taking her seat.

“Look at that girl,” she heard a woman several seats behind her say, “what a drain on the system, you know? I’m sick of this. I work hard, I pay my taxes and I bet this girl’s getting government handouts to raise her little brat, I’m so sick of these teen moms.”

“I know, right? I swear, kids these days, they have no morals at all.”

Cosette winced. She had half a mind to turn around and let them know that it was a simulation baby but thought better of it; she was still exhausted from a night of too-little sleep and knew that, in the long run, it didn’t really matter.

Still, when she stepped off the bus ten minutes later, there was still a look of pained frustration on her face.

Éponine was waiting for her just outside the frozen yogurt shop.

“Hey,” she greeted as she approached Cosette, “so this is your little baby?”

“Yeah.”

“Still having fun?”

Cosette sighed a little as she walked into the shop, pondering her answer. “I’m exhausted and some woman on the bus was complaining about me to her friend,” she admitted.

“Complaining about your fake baby?”

“She didn’t realize it was fake, and I didn’t care enough to correct her.”

Éponine hummed in agreement as they filled their cups with yogurt and toppings, Cosette with some difficulty due to the baby. They elected to eat outside; there were some gardens across the street that were particularly nice in the May warmth.

Cosette sat the yogurt next to her after hearing Catherine’s cries, making a frustrated noise at the knowledge that it might melt before she had an opportunity to even eat it.

Finally, she rested Catherine back in her carrier, covering her with blankets, and resumed eating.

“Oh, I think my father’s partner is going to move in with us,” Cosette remembered.

“That cop?” Éponine asked, “Javert?”

Cosette nodded. “He asked me today if I was alright with it, and I told him I was sure it’d be fine. He’s staying the night tonight, Papa said, to get a feel for our routine.”

“It’s a big change,” Éponine warned, “you’re sure you’re up to it? I mean, your dad obviously loves the guy, but he’s a cop, and honestly a bit of a --”

“Abrasive and somewhat intimidating man?”

Éponine laughed. “Yeah, let’s go with that.”

Cosette smiled at her, until her thought was broken by the sound of a baby’s crying.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Catherine,” Cosette mumbled, turning to the carrier.

“It’s not yours,” Éponine told her, “it’s coming from over -- hey, isn’t that Grantaire?”

Cosette looked over to where Éponine had nodded; indeed, she recognized the unruly hair and generally lazy appearance of Grantaire.

“You know him?” Cosette asked. “He’s in my parenting class, but we’ve never really talked.”

Éponine shrugged.

They watched as Grantaire struggled to make his baby stop crying, but when he looked up, he noticed the two of them looking at him. He stood up, collecting his own carrier, and left the group of friends he was with to approach Cosette and Éponine.

Éponine cursed under her breath as he gave them a small wave.

“Hey Éponine,” he greeted, “and Cosette, right? You’re in my parenting class, I think.”

Cosette nodded.

“What are you doing in parenting anyway?” Éponine asked accusingly, “Just there for the easy grade and because you can do most of the assignments half-drunk?”

He looked at her with mock-horror. “What a horrible thing to say,” he cried, “how little you must think of me, darling Éponine!”

“Get away from me.”

“I believe the best way to understand the suffering of twenty-first century women is to witness firsthand their experiences and societal obligations,” he said, and Cosette noticed the tone of overacting, “for what job in society is truly more important than that of the mother? Perhaps if the class were compulsory, if all men had to care for an infant and realize that being a mom is about more than just playing Bejeweled all day, society might finally start to heal.”

“You’re a feminist?” Cosette asked earnestly.

Éponine rolled her eyes, not giving him a chance to respond. “So that’s a yes on the ‘I can pass this class even half-drunk’ thing, then?”

Grantaire shrugged, abandoning the grandiose tone. “This thing gets me chicks, too. It’s better than a puppy. I tell them I’m looking after my older sister’s kid, they think I’m cute and sensitive.”

“All the fake infants in the world couldn’t make you look cute and sensitive,” Éponine accused.

Grantaire shot her back another look of exaggerated offence. “Words hurt, you know.”

Cosette giggled.

Grantaire turned to the bundle of blankets in his carrier. “Come on, buddy,” he cooed, “let’s leave these mean old girls alone. Stay away from girls, you hear me?” He turned to Cosette. “See you Monday, then. Good luck with the rest of the weekend.”

Cosette was still giggling and Éponine still rolling her eyes as Grantaire walked away.

“I hate that guy,” Éponine admitted.

“He’s funny.”

“He’s obnoxious,” Éponine corrected. “Anyway, can we get out of here? He put me in a bad mood.”

***

The rest of the day passed mostly without incident; Éponine and Javert joined Cosette and her father for dinner, and Cosette noticed that it was decidedly less awkward than the last time they had all shared that table. After dinner, Cosette and Éponine retreated to the basement to watch TV while her father and Javert sat outside.

“I should head out soon,” Éponine told Cosette just before ten, as the credits rolled on the show they had been watching, “I open the restaurant tomorrow, and you really need a good night’s sleep to deal with all the people who come in before church.”

Cosette just barely suppressed a yawn and nodded. She stood up, then looked down at Catherine. “Mamma’s just going for a second, okay?”

They walked upstairs together and Cosette leaned against the wall, still trying not to yawn, as Éponine slipped on her shoes.

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Cosette promised.

“Yeah.”

Cosette glanced around for a second, checking for her father and Javert; when they didn’t seem to be around, she leaned forward, placing a gentle peck on Éponine’s cheek.

Éponine flushed.

“Good night, Éponine,” Cosette said, smiling.

“Night, Cosette.”

***

Despite her level of exhaustion, Cosette had a hard time falling asleep; she knew that once she did, she’d sleep long and deep, and was worried about not being able to hear Catherine’s cries.

When she finally did fall asleep, it felt like it was only a second before those very cries woke her.

She grumbled as she rolled over, setting her feet on the ground and sitting up on the edge of her bed. She grabbed Catherine gently waiting for the chime to sound from her bracelet.

She, again, went through the motions, but neither changing nor feeding her seemed to stifle her cries.

“Come on, what is it?” Cosette groaned, “You’re not hungry, you don’t need to be changed...”

Cosette winced at the noise, hoping they would not wake Javert or her father.

“What do you want? What do you want?” Cosette asked impatiently, her rocking becoming less gentle. Catherine’s head slipped out of the crook of Cosette’s elbow, and the crying intensified -- it was always the loudest when the baby’s head wasn’t being supported.

Cosette cursed and then pressed Catherine to her shoulder. “No, come on, Mamma’s sorry, shh, come on...” she tried, gently.

Catherine’s cries had quieted slightly when Cosette heard a knock at her bedroom door.

“Come in,” Cosette called, keeping Catherine in her arms and wiping away the frustrated tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.

The door creaked open, but just barely. “It’s not your dad, it’s Javert,” she heard from the doorway.

“You can come in, if you want,” Cosette stuttered. She reached with her free hand to turn on the light on her night stand. “I’m so sorry if I woke you up, I just --”

Javert stepped in and shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted. “You alright?”

“Yeah... What time is it anyway?”

“Just before six.”

Cosette sighed. “I feel like I’ve barely slept.”

“You look like it,” Javert admitted.

Cosette placed Catherine gently back down in her carrier and then rested her elbows on her knees, burying her head in her hands. “I’m exhausted and miserable and I can’t do this.”

“How much longer do you have it for?” Javert asked.

“Just until tomorrow, but -- I’m sure everyone else is doing so well, and I thought I’d be so good at this, you know? I’m -- maybe I’m not cut out to be a mother,” Cosette admitted, defeated.

Javert made a pained face and let out an exasperated sigh. “Cut it out. None of that. The sun’ll be up soon, come downstairs and I’ll make you a coffee.”

Cosette nodded and stood up slowly, collecting Catherine’s carrier and walking downstairs behind Javert.

Javert pressed a few buttons on the coffee maker, and Cosette heard it turn on from the armchair she was sitting in, only a few feet from the kitchen. Javert came in and sat on the couch across from her.

“How’s it work, anyway?” He asked, nodding at Catherine.

Cosette tiredly lifted her wrist, showing off the bracelet. “There’s a chip in the baby and one in the bracelet that make a set,” she explained, “so you have to make sure that this noise goes off that lets you know the baby recognizes you. After that you can do whatever, like feed her or rock or or change her diaper.”

“So as long as it beeps with your bracelet, anyone can look after it?”

“Well, for that particular crying incident, I suppose,” Cosette yawned.

As if by clockwork, Catherine began to cry. Cosette let out a frustrated sigh before picking her up from her carrier.

“If you want to sleep, Cosette, I could,” Javert mumbled.

Cosette pressed her wrist to Catherine, waiting for the noise to chime. “Normally I’d say no,” Cosette said, “but I’m so tired.”

Javert stood and walked over to Cosette, extending his arms. She gave Catherine to him, slowly.

“Just remember to support her head--” Cosette tried, before stopping in her tracks.

Javert had taken her from Cosette with a gentleness she didn’t think him capable of, and was rocking her gently with one arm while he reached for her bottle.

“Thank you,” Cosette said quietly when Catherine’s cries subsided.

Javert shrugged, placing the infant gently back in the carrier. He walked into the kitchen, and Cosette could have sworn she heard him mumble something about being sick of fixing problems for teenage girls.

Cosette followed him into the kitchen, grabbing a mug for him from the cupboard when she saw him having difficulty locating them.

“Papa told me you were thinking about moving in,” Cosette admitted.

Javert looked at her expectantly.

“I think it would be nice,” she said.

“If you’re just saying this to con me into doing your parenting thing for you,” he warned.

Cosette just looked at him.

Javert sighed. “If you sleep on the couch and leave your wrist out, or something, I could watch her for a few hours.”

Cosette beamed.

***

When Cosette arrived at school on Monday, she was happy to note that just about everyone in her class looked as exhausted and frazzled as she did. She was still rather proud of herself for the project, and felt substantially less guilty about having Javert’s help for a few hours when she overheard the ways in which her classmates had gone about cheating.

Marius looked particularly miserable, which brightened Cosette’s day just a little.

She went over to talk to him before class would begin at the same time Marius greeted Grantaire.

“Why do you look so well rested?” Marius groaned.

Indeed, Grantaire did look well rested, certainly more than anyone else in the class.

He shrugged. “I didn’t drink this weekend. Nursing a toy’s way easier than nursing a hangover.”

“I might as well be hungover,” Marius whined, “I’ve got a headache, I didn’t have time for breakfast, not even something to drink --”

Grantaire reached into his bag and pulled out a small plastic bag before tossing it at Marius. “It’s a painkiller and some of that dehydration powder stuff. Mix it with some water, it helps a lot. Combeferre made a bunch up for me last year, little hangover relief bags, but I never used them.”

Cosette handed Marius the water bottle she’d bought on her way to class. “You look like you could use it more than me,” she admitted.

“Parenting,” Grantaire sighed, looking at Cosette as if the word had particular weight. “Look how fast they grow up, Cosette!” He ruffled Marius’s hair, causing him to choke on the sip of water he’d taken. “Can you believe our little Marius has his own baby now? We’re grandparents!”

Cosette laughed, and, eventually, Marius joined them.

She wouldn’t be able to articulate exactly what the project had taught her, but she felt a lot closer to both Marius and Grantaire after that project, and was happy to see an empathetic side brought out in even Javert.

Actual parenting could wait, though.

 

**Author's Note:**

> dvd commentary:
> 
> \- yeah so no beatles title for this one SRY  
> \- i'm basing all my knowledge of these stupid dolls on the video i watched on the website last week and my memory of my sister doing this exact project  
> \- again all of my high school knowledge is based on my little crappy canadian high school because i didn't think it was important enough to bother looking up exactly what they do in french parenting classes  
> \- poor javert i swear to god i need to write a fic where he's really badass and arrests someone because in these fics he just seems to be awkwardly showing good will to teenage girls with problems he doesn't understand  
> \- i'm literally still trying to get rid of semicolons that 3 sentence fic thing has ruined me


End file.
